But I wouldn’t wreck this. I was good at locks. That wasn’t cockiness. It wasfact.
Another gangster got up and pushed the first one aside.
“Get out of the way, Hran. Breaker, are you? I’ll make a call.” He pulled out his tablet and got on a call to someone I couldn’t see because he turned the screen away from me. “Boss? There’s a girl here who says she’s a breaker. You hirin’?”
“Let me meet her.”
The call was ended abruptly.
“Ghil says I can take you to him. But if you’re lying...” He drew a finger across his throat to make it clear I’d be dead before I could blink if I fucked this up. No pressure.
He led the way to another rusty building around the corner, and up several flights of stairs. At the top, he banged on a door that looked the same as all the others on that floor.
“Who’s there?”
There was no letterbox on the door. Where was the voice coming from?
“It’s Jerel. I’ve brought the breaker to see Ghil.”
“She dirty?”
“Nah.”
With clinks, bolts slid back and a lock turned. The rusty door swung open silently. A weapon was pointed in my face. Behind it stood a lanky man who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three. His eyes were the deadest I’d ever seen.
“You try anything, I shoot, got it?” I hated twats like this. They always thought they ruled the roost. If this was Ghil, we were going to have problems. Although, I doubted a gang leader would answer his own door.
“Aye,” I replied.
He motioned with his gun for me to come inside. I looked to the other guy. He shook his head. I was on my own. Taking a deep breath and trying to act casual, I stepped into the lion’s den.
It was another manky shithole. Broken things everywhere. I’d never yet met the gangster or drug dealer who knew how to put flat-packed furniture together or paint a wall. Maybe that was because I had always dealt with the small fry. I knew fine well the big fish all lived in mansions with fancy cars. Never met any of that type.
Perched on a busted-up sofa riddled with stains, a round-faced man about my age eyed me with interest.
“Jerel says you’re a breaker.”
“Answer the boss!” Gun-waver seemed on edge about something.
“Go watch the door, Fert.” Ghil barely gave his bodyguard a glance. The gun-waver sloped off, obviously disappointed that he wasn’t able to intimidate a woman right now. “You have to excuse him. He’s a good shooter. I didn’t promote him for his social skills. What’s your name?”
“Natasha. And I can open any lock you can find,” I told him. I didn’t feel half as confident as I acted. That was part of the attitude, though. Without it, I’d be quivering on the floor with my hands over my head begging them not to shoot me. It was easier to pretend I was confident.
“What about this one?” Ghil waved a hand at a big black box. A safe.
“I’ve never done safe cracking, but I’ll give it a shot if you like.”
“Honesty. Refreshing. Got the tools you need?”
I nodded and pulled out my picks.
“Put them on the floor over here.”
What? How was I supposed to open a lock without my picks? Not wanting to piss him off by disobeying, I put the picks down on the grubby floor.
“I don’t know how to open something without them,” I told him. I felt naked. Bared. Stripped. How could I show him my skills as a breaker if I didn’t have my tools?
“Try. Use your senses. Listen to the tumblers spinning. Feel the movements.”